


Tears on the Piano

by Apple_tastic



Series: Phan OneShots [5]
Category: Daniel Howell - Fandom, Phan, Phil Lester - Fandom, dan and phil, phadom - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Hurt Dan Howell, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Phil Lester - Freeform, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 10:50:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13098528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apple_tastic/pseuds/Apple_tastic
Summary: A poetic look at death, love and giving upPhil is dead and dan cant handle it any longer.Suicide warning!





	Tears on the Piano

**Author's Note:**

> I dont really know why this idea came to me. But i had to write it out. I had to stop and breath a few times to get through the feelings it brought.  
> I wrote it whilst listening to kiss the rain-Yiruma  
> I suggest listening to it whilst reading this if you want to be swept away with it.

The rain fell hard today in London, the streets were awash with blurry figures running for cover to find a safe haven from the storm.

All the colours had disappeared and it was a sea of grey, the faces of people passing by mixed into one. 

They were just people. Just noise, it didn't matter. Not to him anyway.

No-one saw him, they never did, he was just another person, another problem in a world full of people and problems.

The rain had drenched his hair, which coiled around the sides of his face leaving drops of water running down his neck.

His clothes soaked, clung to his body as he made his way through the crowd. 

But where would he go. What was home. He just walked. No place in mind. He just walked. And walked. And walked until his feet could walk no more.

Where was he? Home? No. House? No. Apartment, his apartment. Another cement building amongst a field of cement buildings. Nothing really standing out amongst them all.

Jacket dropped, keys thrown, movements, motions. All a blur. No sound or sight quite in focus. Distorted and static.

Why did he ever come to London? Who was it for? Was there even a reason to be here? To be.. alive?

His mind played back memories. A story. A tale.

Once upon a time, I was loved. I was needed. Then it was gone. He was gone. He did not leave. He vanished. Vanished from life. And now I'm alone. 

It never made sense to say goodbye to someone who should still be here. Its funny how the world works. How it takes away the things you love the most then tells you, you should have loved it harder. Should have done more.

How do you do more when a car hits and kills the one you love. Time is not our friend. This world is wicked and it begs for all to end . To cease to exist. To never belong.

If that's what it wanted then fine.

He stood in front of the piano. The wooden box that made such sounds that filled the ears of the one he loved. That made them dance, and smile, and love.

And yet now it sat quiet, taunting him to be touched. Yearning to unleash its sound again

And so he obliged. His fingers pressing into the keys. And sound filled the room. Filled the street out the window, where the people below continued on with their day through the rain.

With each note more memories passed through him. Of everything he knew of the man he once loved.

And then the tears came. And like the rain outside they fell hard. Hitting the keys of the piano below him as he played his soul for all who may hear. 

He stopped for a moment and picked up what felt like a gift from god and held it against his wrist and brought out the warmth in his body. Like liquid gold spilling from him. 

The first feeling he had in months. And then he continued to play the song.

His eyes heavy and tired as he played. Then his everlasting sleep was here. And when he woke he lay upon a bed of feathers. And a light ever so bright shone around him. Blinding him to what was in front of him.

A warm voice telling him it was going to be okay came through, and the tears began again. His love. His only love. Was brought to him. He was home. And he was free.

No more pain. No more cold. No more grey. No more silence.

Just him and his love in their ever after.

Yes isn't it funny how the world works?


End file.
